


I'm Amazing, Too

by Sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr



Series: Sherlock and Mycroft Fluff [20]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awkward Sherlock, Fluff, M/M, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 03:04:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6548050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock doesn't know how to ask for affection, especially cuddles, so he steals the covers one night in an attempt to make John move closer to him. Much to his frustration, it doesn't work. How can he initiate the little shows of affection that he needs?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Amazing, Too

John way laying on his side, his knees bent and one hand tucked under his head. He had been comfortable and warm just moments ago, but now chill was seeping into his muscles. He rolled over and snatched at the bundle of covers that now cocooned Sherlock in their depths.

The detective moaned as John tried tugging the covers back.

Greg was rocking Mycroft trying to make him wake up quietly. The older Holmes frowned in his sleep before he cracked open one eye to see that the DI was pointing at his little brother's bed.

Mycroft lifted his head just a bit and had to stifle a snort of laughter. Sherlock had habitually kicked the bedclothes to the floor every day of his life, but there his brother was, buried up to his curls beneath them.

It was actually quite cute, not that he'd ever say that out loud. John was trying to pry them from his grip but Sherlock was having none of it. Sighing the doctor rolled from the bed and got up, heading to the toilet. It was normally Sherlock that woke him up early but not quite like this.

As the door closed behind the doctor, Sherlock kicked out from under the weight of the covers that seemed be smothering him. He frowned, thinking. Maybe he could sneak out and turn the temperature control lower before John got back. That might work.

But after waiting 10 minutes John didn't come back. Sherlock walked to the bathroom door and knocked. There was no reply and it was unlocked. Bollocks! He'd gone downstairs.

Sherlock uncharacteristically dithered for a moment, then he slipped downstairs in search of his boyfriend.

When his steps had faded into the distance, Mycroft started chuckling softly.

“Your brother isn't very good at this, is he?”

Mycroft shook his head still laughing, even as he shifted across himself to snuggle into the DI. “It has never occurred to him to ask for what he needs.”

Greg smiled in the darkness. “Or just be a cuddly teddy bear like you.”

“I'm not a bear. But I am getting up. Food and coffee is downstairs.”

Greg laughed and threw the covers back rolling out with him.

They grabbed their dressing gowns on the way out the door and Sherlock's as well.

Even with the other two men already up, the house was extremely quiet. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes would sleep for hours yet.

They found Sherlock attempting to hold John by the coffee machine but not succeeding. He kept holding his arms out and then dropping them again without John's knowledge.

Something warned him that the doctor was about to move and he took a step back, turning to face the other direction. The look on his face made the other men feel sorry for him.

“You having tea or coffee?”

“Hmm. Tea,” he grumbled, stepping back and sitting down. He chose not to comment on the failed attempt at emotion.

John placed a perfect cup of tea in front of Sherlock who just looked at it. This whole relationship thing was beyond him. He didn't know why he was even trying.

“You, 'Lock, stole the covers last night,” John complained, but he tempered it with a kiss to Sherlock's temple.

“Didn't mean to,” Sherlock lied.

The doctor sat down next to him just as the two older men joined them.

“Mhm.” Mycroft hummed as he sat.

Sherlock shot him a look. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Not a thing, brother-mine.”

“Why are you down here Mycroft? I thought you stayed in bed all the time now you have a reason to!”

“Oi, little brother. I spend longer in bed, yes, but I am still the British Government.”

“Besides it was awfully warm upstairs, wouldn't you agree, Gregory.”

The DI nodded. “Absolutely. Horribly hot.”

“You couldn't tell it by me, not with how the great consulting git, and I repeat, stole all my covers!”

“They aren't yours! It's a double bed with one set of covers. We share them!”

Sherlock folded his arms in an iconic pouting sulk.

John looked at him, his expression considering. “There's something I'm missing. I don't know what it is, but…”

Mycroft snorted knowingly and his brother sat bolt upright.

“Mycroft, shut it!”

“Hey! Calm down, little brother, why is it the end of the world if he finds out what he's missing? Surely that would solve your little problem?”

“I don't have a problem.” The younger Holmes slouched down in his chair, deepening the sulk.

John was suddenly concerned. “Babe, have I done something wrong? Am I the problem?”

“Yes!” Sherlock declared, getting to his feet. He ran from the room and the others watched.

“Well, I didn't see that coming,” Greg commented.

John looked at the British Government. “What the fuck did I do?”

Mycroft looked at his boyfriend. “Gregory? This is one of those Sherlock/John interpersonal things you keep telling me to leave alone, but perhaps I should say something this time.”

“Or perhaps you shouldn't. This needs to come from the man himself.”

Sighing, John got to his feet and went to look for Sherlock, hoping he didn't wake the eldest Holmeses.

The doctor climbed the stairs and went to their room. The window was open and a chill breeze blew through it. He stuck his head out and found Sherlock sitting on the roof. “Mind if I join you?” At the silence that greeted him, he carried on, “Good. Then here I come.” John climbed out the window and scrambled over to sit next to his boyfriend.

“What do you want?” He grumbled.

“How charming.”

“Well you decided to follow and interrupt me.”

“From what? Getting cold on the roof?”

John scooted closer. “Budge up. If we're going to have some soul searching talk, I don't want to freeze to death.” He took one of Sherlock's arms and draped it over his own shoulders. “There. Better.”

Sherlock stared at the blond for a long time. “It's that easy?”

John frowned, dropping his hand on Sherlock's knee.

“Is what easy?”

“That thing you just did. You put my arm around your shoulders. How did you do that?”

John chuckled uneasily, knowing he was missing the point. “I picked it up and ducked under it?”

Sherlock pulled away, shifting up as much as the edge of the roof would allow before John would start shouting.

Still frowning the doctor followed, he picked his arm up again automatically and ducked beneath it, tucking himself back into the detective's side.

“I don't understand. Where did you learn to do that?”

“In the first year or so of life.” John shook his head. “Look, just spell it out for me. Remember, I'm an idiot. What am I missing?”

Sherlock looked down at the top of the doctor's head. “No, you're brilliant. Amazing.”

The younger man gave him an experimental squeeze. “Is that good?” He asked.

“Yes, that's good.”

He grinned. “I'm amazing, too.”

“Are you going to explain to me what you're going on about?”

Sherlock felt daring. He kissed the top of John's head, then propped his chin on it. “Was that good too?”

“Yes, you wanker. Now answer the question.”

“Affection.” The way Sherlock said it, it was a word full of mystery.

“I'm still not with you.”

“I change my earlier opinion. You are an idiot.”

“Explain, Mister Holmes.”

“I always steal the covers and you just get in a huff.”

“Of course I do. I get cold.”

“You're not supposed to get cold. You're supposed to move closer to me and...” Sherlock swallowed, “cuddle.”

John burst out laughing. “You stupid sod.” He moved out of Sherlock's arm and held him tight within his own. “There, is that better?”

“Mm.”

“Just ask, next time. Better yet, just reach over and hold me.”

Sherlock pouted. “You won't get mad?”

“No you daft sod. I love you.”

“Good, because I love you too.”


End file.
